Bare Thoughts
by Jersey Wolf
Summary: Tom is home during the day since his job doesn't start until night, and he's trying to get a bit of peace and quiet to rest. However, his mind has other things in store for him. R&R please!


**Author's Note:** Been on a P2 binge recently. It's not an astounding film, but somehow I find myself really liking it and taking a strange fascination with Thomas, the parking attendant and resident bad guy. There's just something so inexplicably interesting about him. A friend and I have thought on him quite a bit and have concluded that though he does terrible things that there is something undeniably sad about him and the fact that he is how he is. But anyway, this is just a random thing that came to me when we were discussing Tom's slipping into insanity since it seems like it'd be an interesting thing to explore. As can be expected, the only thing I'm in possession of are these words. The characters belong to...someone else. I'm too lazy to look them up right now. So yeah, hopefully you'll enjoy this because seriously...I think this movie deserves more credit than it gets. And Tom is still terrifying, but in a weird non-threatening way...but I'm rambling. On with this thing!

Tom curled up on his bed with a pillow hugged close to his chest as he lay there and listened to the sounds that filled the space that he called his room. The sound of people and cars down on the street as the daytime world bustled on down below without him. The sound of the breeze as it blew past his window whose curtains blocked out the light of day causing it to rattle just enough to make the hint of a sound, and there was of course the gentle breathing of the large rottweiler that slept at his feet. As far away and quiet as these sounds felt they kept the man from the peaceful sleep he desired. He did his best to think of things that would put his mind to ease, but still, sleep continued to avoid him like a person would avoid the plague or an unpleasant family member. With boredom starting to set in his thoughts slowly began to wander from thing to thing as he laid there with his arms wrapped around his pillow and his feet pulled in close to his body. The man's mind jumped around from his hometown of Sonoma County, California to music to his job and then…to something he had been trying desperately to keep from invading his thoughts because he knew it would do him no good to think on such things. Thinking on them could get him lost within fantasy and dreams with little hope of escaping, but even with that in mind he could not prevent the thought from coming to be. The pretty face that appeared in front of him though his eyes were closed stirred nameless feelings in the pit of his stomach that would not leave him as the thought continued to develop in his brain.

"Angela…" Tom muttered as he drew up the beautiful image of the woman he had seen countless times at his job into his mind's eye. "Angela, why can't you just be here with me? If you were here I'd be able to sleep," he continued, voice soft and tinged with an undeniable sadness. The parking attendant pulled his pillow even closer to him as he played along and entertained his fantasy making it take a more definite shape. He let his hands move in an odd sort of caress against the material of the pillowcase his mind turning it into soft, warm, flesh as he let his fingers trail down the spine of the girl that he had only held in his dreams. He could feel the way she gave into his touch and returned it with an affectionate stroke of her own that filled Tom with incredible warmth that enveloped him entirely. Could such an amazing feeling possibly be real? Could such a feeling be for him? A man who no one ever saw or took the time to notice…it had to be! He was feeling it now wasn't he? Wasn't he? Yes, how else could it be? Tom was certain he could feel Angela cozy up to him, her sweet scent filling his nose as making him dizzy. Such clear and vivid sensations could not be imagined by Thomas simply willing them to be there, and right now he was in the arms of the woman of his dreams. That was the only truth that the man would allow to pass through his mind.

The whole ordeal was so real to him, and a playfully amused grin found its way onto his face. Perfect…this woman was perfect. Her hair, her body, her face, her lips…the lips that formed a sweet smile for him and for him alone; her best friend…her lover even. Oh, if only it were the truth and not some painfully real day dream. So lost was Tom in his imagination that reality was soon buried beneath ever fleeting pleasure that came as the man imagined Angela's eyes watching him with tenderness and longing. She leaned in closer to him so that their noses brushed lightly together and a finger traced his jaw lightly, which caused him to move with the gentle touch. Slowly her hands moved to his chest to feel his heartbeat before they moved lower and played around his waist teasingly. It took all the self-control Tom could muster not to give in to her touch right then and there. Seeing that he would not be swayed so easily the figment breathed a small sigh and brought her face once more to his with a look in her eyes that was unreadable but powerfully attractive. Enough stalling. If anything was going to be done Tom was going to have to do it himself. Carefully he leaned into a kiss…gentle at first but then quickly becoming deeper and more passionate…and all for him. However, the delusion was so strong that Tom could feel a familiar tingle run down his spine and other regions that jarred him back to reality with a harsh wave of guilt accompanying the awareness. He was not in the arms of a lovely woman but in his room with only his thoughts and a sleeping canine for company. The pleasure and tenderness he had been feeling had only been a dream. A concoction of his own loneliness and insomnia. Before the feelings had been somewhat subdued, but with that kiss a wash of pleasure had overtaken his mind and soon it was that same mind that turned on him. What was he doing? How could he have let his mind wander in such ways that made his heart pound and senses heighten? Now snapped back to reality the tingling would not subside but only seemed to grow stronger from a tingling to a dull throb. Thomas tried to calm his now racing thoughts as images still flitted about his mind. Distraction. Distraction. He needed a distraction, and he needed one now. Politics? No, too complicated. Wine? No, it made him think of home. Daytime TV? No, much too painful. No, no, no…nothing was able to remove the blond from his thoughts. The way she smiled and how he wished she was smiling for him. Her lips soft and warm and her scent sweet but seductive. The way her body curved and felt beneath his hands…perfect. Much too perfect for him…and oh, how he wanted desperately to pull her close into a deep kiss and more…

"Shit! Stop it! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tom growled at himself and gripped his shoulders, embracing himself in an awkward self-hug and digging his nails as deep into his skin as was possible for a man who kept them short and neat. He just wanted to hurt, possibly make himself bleed; silently wishing for pain that would draw his mind from the excitement that only grew and grew within him despite his best efforts to snuff it out. The tiny spark had turned into an uncontrollable flame that was scorching his insides as it spread rapidly. Painful but warm…and only getting stronger. A powerful tingling accompanied by maddening throbbing and uncontrollable thoughts. Finally, the man could take it no longer, and he practically leapt from his bed causing it to shake and rouse Rocky, his dog, from his sleep at the end of the bed. The dog lifted his slightly to watch his owner exit the room in a hurry but made no attempts to stop him.

Tom's feet took him to his bathroom, carrying him swiftly over the tile, where he was quick to peel off his t-shirt and boxers, which had been serving as sleepwear. Only then did he feel that they were damp from sweat brought on by nerves and…well, other things. The guilt from before came over him again as he reached to start his shower, turning it as far as he possibly could to the side that indicated cold. He wanted it absolutely freezing and enough to completely overpower any other stimulation, which wasn't terribly difficult since the water in his shower had always been a bit on the chillier end of things. Thomas entered the shower and jumped as the icy water hit his skin and made him shiver almost enough to make him slip on the smooth shower floor. The drops stung for a bit before things started to go numb, and Tom could have sworn that he saw his skin starting to turn blue from the cold. Still, it was an effective way of clearing one's mind and dropping any unwanted feelings like stones over the edge of a cliff. As they fell away his heartbeat seemed to settle and he could no longer feel it within his chest. The throbbing left him, and the tingling subsided as the cool drops of moisture pelted him continuously. Shaking from cold he leaned against the cheap siding of his shower and stood there for several minutes longer just letting the cold water hit him and run down his form before he finally shut off the water. He took his time stepping out of the shower and onto his old bathroom mat, staring down at his toes that felt like they were trapped in a block of ice. How odd it felt to stand while one's feet were numb. Almost like walking on air, but Tom believed if he were to try and take a step forward he would be anything but graceful.

Slowly he lifted his head and met his own gaze in the mirror on the wall. It was a harsh blue gaze that even on a face devoid of emotion came off as analytical and judging. As he stared at his shivering, bare, form in the mirror, only one word came to Tom's now quiet mind. Pathetic. Yes, that's what he was. He could not be anything else. Positively, perfectly, pathetic. What sort of a man was he that he wished his fantasies to be true? What sort of man was he to let such thoughts take hold of him so strongly as distort what he knew to be true and what he knew to be false? What sort of man…what sort of man was he? He didn't have a single clue. He didn't have the faintest idea. Tom's head began to feel light and his stomach lurched forward unpleasantly so he slowly lowered himself to the floor in a sitting position so that he did not see himself in the mirror. Breathing slowly he brought his knees up to his chest for warmth, but his shivering did not stop as he sat there. He bent his toes only to feel a stinging sensation in the cold digits but at the same time he could have sworn they were not there at all. Quietly he stared blankly ahead, afraid to close his eyes for fear of what his mind would put in front of him if he did. At least now he was awake and was fairly certain that there would be no sleep happening that day.

However, the silence was broken briefly as a thought dropped like a stone from the man's mouth before he could stop it. "I wish you loved me…" he whispered to the air, his voice trailing off into nothing and reinstating the silence that filled the room and was enough to make one think they had gone deaf. It made his heart sink lower if that was even possible and he tried to shove the thought away, but it lingered for a few moments more before leaving him be in his silence. He felt his eyes water slightly and begin to burn, but not a tear was shed. He did not want pity even if it came from himself. After a minute or two, Tom's peace was disrupted once more by the unmistakable sound of claws on tile that signaled the arrival of Rocky into the closet of a bathroom, but he did not turn his head or acknowledge the other being in the room. The large dog took a seat beside the man on the floor but made no sound. Not a whimper or a growl or ever a bark came from the generally quite vocal animal. Thomas felt his shivering lessen as fur rubbed against his skin and a warm tongue licked his shoulder that still had the imprint of his nails in it and that he could tell were going to be red for quite some time there after. Maybe he had even broken the skin, but he could not tell as he was too cold and any moisture on his skin he assumed to be water. "Thanks," he said turning his gaze to his pet though his voice was still low since he was not quite back to himself. He reached out his hand and scratched the fur behind the dog's ears, but after a few moments of that he just leaned over and embraced Rocky fully, not caring that he was buck-naked on the bathroom floor of his apartment wet and shivering. "I needed that," the man continued, burying his face in the dark fur of the dog's back. "Today is going to be one of those long days."


End file.
